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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27129808">Sunshine &amp; Nectar</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dipole_Moment/pseuds/Dipole_Moment'>Dipole_Moment</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Wars Sequel Trilogy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Bats, Bats are sky puppies, Depression, F/M, Fluff and Angst, HEA, Happy Ending, Mild Sexual Content, Not Beta Read, Rise of Batlo!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 19:29:46</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,945</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27129808</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dipole_Moment/pseuds/Dipole_Moment</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Follow up to my #reylomicrofic submission for the prompt: BAT</p>
<p>  <em>She bought him a bird cage and covered it with a blanked.  Feeds him nectar and sliced fruit.  He doesn't have to make excuses anymore about why they can't meet during the day. </em></p>
<p>  <em>For the first time since Ben was bitten by the bat, he doesn't feel so alone.</em></p>
<p>------------<br/>  <strong>OR: Ben Solo gets bitten by a bat and goes through some unexpected changes.</strong></p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Rey &amp; Ben Solo, Rey &amp; Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>73</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Sunshine &amp; Nectar</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p>
<p>It starts slowly.  Light sensitivity, drowsiness, strange food cravings.  He chalks it up to stress, or maybe the beginnings of a migraine. His mother started getting them at his age.  He assumes she still gets them, but he isn’t about to call to find out.  So, he just slips on a pair of sunglasses and goes about his business.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The symptoms become increasingly bothersome, but still he ignores them.  They’re calling him an “up-and-comer” at Palpatine, Snoke &amp; Associates.  He can’t slow down now, or he’ll lose momentum and become just another moderately successful lawyer.  He needs to be elite.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Soon indoor lighting becomes too much of a discomfort.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It feels like his eyes are permanently dilated.  He has to walk briskly from reception to his office, where he can turn off the lights and work by a dimmed computer screen.  Even with an endless supply of coffee, his mind doesn’t start to sharpen until sundown.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He pops painkillers whenever he has to leave the safe enclosure of his office.  Trying to keep his eyes from squinting and remain attentive during meetings is taxing, and one day he retreats back into his darkened office and lays his head down on his desk.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He’s awakened by a cursory knock and someone entering his office.  He can’t see who it is because for some reason he is underneath his desk and the world is very large.  Or maybe his is very small.  Something is definitely different.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“He must have gone home,” he hears the office assistant say.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Seriously?” Hux scoffs.  “I keep telling Snoke he’s not cut out for partner.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“<em>I’m right here</em>!” Ben exclaims.  Or tries to.  It comes out sounding squeaky and shrill.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What was that?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ben crawls out from underneath the desk on his wings—<em>wings?</em>—and claws.  “<em>Why the hell are you bothering me</em>?”  More squeaking.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Jesus, is that a fucking bat?” Hux spits.  “Call an exterminator!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>They shut him in the office while they make the call.  Ben may be a bat, but he knows things will not end well for him if pest control catches him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>By the time they arrive he’s had a chance to practice flying—crashing into things and knocking things down all over the office—and is able to dart out the door before they net him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He spends the rest of the afternoon and most of the night hanging in a tree, dozing.  At around 2 am he suddenly finds himself large and human-shaped again and hurtling towards the ground.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He calls in sick the next day and they day after that.  He spends the entirety of it hanging upside-down in his closet, catching up on much-needed rest.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>When he comes back to work his multitude of bumps and bruises have started to yellow, including two very visible black eyes.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Bat pups learn to fly at about 40 days, he’s learned.  They have time to adjust to their growing wings as they mature, and learn to and navigate through sound.  Ben had to learn on the fly, as it were, and his body shows the evidence.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He’s fired before lunch.</p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>He spends the next eight months depressed and unemployed.  His savings only take him so far, and he has to sell his condo at a loss.  He doesn’t look for doctors.  They’d either think him mad or send him to a secret lab and cut him open.  He browses the internet a bit, which rekindles a hazy memory of swatting a bird out of his hair on a drunken stroll home.  Except it wasn’t a bird, it was a bat.  If only he’d contracted rabies instead of whatever he is now.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ultimately, nothing helpful comes out of his internet browsing.  There are a few satirical blogs and people claiming to be vampires or shapeshifters, but nothing that sounds familiar.  Maybe they were telling the truth- he was a bat, after all, so how could he call anyone else a liar? </p>
<p> </p>
<p>But he lacks the drive to reach out to other supposed shifters.  Why bother?  He’s never been good at forming relationships outside of work, and in the end, those didn’t hold up either.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He relearns how to live in his body.  He still doesn’t have complete control over the shifts, but he gets better at predicting and managing them.  It happens mostly when he becomes overly stressed or sleep deprived.  A cold tingle down his spine warns him when he reaches his limit.  He falls into a fitful sleep every morning at dawn.  Sometimes he wakes up in his bed, sometimes hanging in his closet by hooked claws.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It’s always worst around the full moon.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Eventually, he figures out how to dumb-down his resume and lands a job at a second-rate dive bar.  The turnover rate must be high, because they hardly look at him before giving him the job.  It’s lucky that most of the customers are poor college students who order draft beers or well drinks.  He can fumble his way through a few cocktails and martinis, and people are usually too polite to ask him to remake their drinks.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The first time a bachelorette party comes through he is certain he’s going to shift in the middle of the bar.  A dozen young women already on their way from drunk to plastered press against the bar to shout their sexually suggestive drink-orders at him.  They have no qualms telling him exactly what he’s doing wrong and maybe he should try stripping instead.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>A cold tingle starts to work its way up his spine.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>A cute brunette with her hair pulled back into three buns sidles up next to him behind the bar and starts mixing drinks with a practiced efficiency.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Where’s the whipped cream?” she asks him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He blinks at her.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Whipped cream?” she prompts.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He jerks into action, leaning down to grab the cannister from the minifridge under the counter.  She tops a shot with a flourish.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Here’s your Blow Job and Quick Fuck!”  She hands the shots to the bride-to-be with a wink.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She works beside him until the rush is over, giving instructions for the more ridiculous-sounding drinks.  When it’s over, she turns to him and sticks out her hand.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’m Rey.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ben closes his hand over her own, mindful of his grip.  His lawyer handshake would probably crush her hand.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Ben,” he replies.  “When did you start working here?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Oh, I don’t,” she tells him with a grin.  “You just looked like you could use a hand.”</p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>She becomes a regular at the bar.  Sometimes she comes alone and chats with him during slow periods.  Sometimes she brings friends along and they play darts and shuffleboard.  She always has a smile for him.  He thinks it’s the only bright thing he has left that doesn’t burn his eyes.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>One of her friends is familiar.  Finn doesn’t say anything the first time they come face to face, just does a subtle double-take.  It’s during a slow moment when Rey is engaged in a competitive darts game with another friend that Ben’s former assistant approaches the bar.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He hands Ben the pitcher to refill.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You look good, man,” he says sincerely. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>In his life before, Ben didn’t interact much with Finn beyond basic work-related requests.  He didn’t even fit into the category of Ben’s “work-friends.”  In fact, Ben was a bit of an asshole to him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Thanks.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He can only imagine the rumors that must have circulated about his firing.  Drugs, probably, or maybe a psychotic break.  He wonders if he can drop hints of involvement in a Fight Club that Finn will take back to the firm.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Rey never gives any indication she knows about his former life.  She keeps gracing him her sunny smiles and sparkling eyes.  He wonders how long it will last.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She stays until closing one night, her friends having left hours earlier.  It was so <em>easy</em>, accepting her casual suggestion for breakfast.  They eat bacon, eggs, and waffles at an all-night diner.  He thinks he manages not to squint too much under the harsh fluorescent lights.  She entertains him with horror stories from her time bartending at a strip club during college.  Professors studiously avoiding eye contact the next day in class.  Classmates stuttering apologies after realizing who they’d inappropriately groped. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“They always tipped well after that, at least,” she says with a laugh.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He tries to keep his distance, he really does.  He doesn’t want to lead her on, because realistically there is no hope for them.  Who wants to wake up next to a bat?  But he can’t bring himself to give her up, not yet.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It’s difficult for them to see each other outside of the bar.  She’s working as a mechanic while she applies for the engineering jobs.  He can only take graveyard shifts at the bar.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>They text almost every day though.  Random thoughts they know the other will enjoy.  Complaints the other will commiserate with.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>They go bowling and see movies on his nights off.  He doesn’t want to wear his sunglasses around her, but sometimes the indoor lighting is too much.  He takes more painkillers and tries not to squint, but she notices.  He tells her he has an eye condition, which isn’t entirely a lie. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>The next time they see each other she greets him with a sunny smile and matching rhinestone-studded sunglasses.  They wear them to their favorite Thai restaurant, although Rey has to keep peeking around the lenses so she can see her food.  He must look like an idiot with the goofy grin on his face, but he finds he doesn’t’ care.</p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>It’s going too well.  He starts to get anxious.  He’s not completely oblivious- he catches her subtle hints that she’d like to be more than friends.  She never pushes though, seeming to recognize it’s not something he’s ready for.  He doesn’t tell her he’ll never be ready. He’s not that strong.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He has to make excuses when she wants to see him before sundown.  Even with sunglasses to protect his eyes and caffeine to keep him awake, the thought of involuntarily shifting in front of her is enough to make his spine tingle.  He can tell when she doesn’t buy his lies, but still she does not push.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He makes his ultimate mistake when he asks her to feed his beta fish when he goes out of town (an impulse purchase when he was looking for ways to stave off the loneliness).</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He hasn’t seen his family in years, not since he “went to the dark side” by working for Snoke.  But now his dad’s health isn’t good, and all the arguments and hurt feelings suddenly seem so trivial.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It’s an awkward reunion.  Seeing his parents again is cathartic and his tears are both concerned and relieved.  But he still has to hold them at an arm’s length- he can’t stay at the house with them or see them before sundown.  He can tell they are hurt and confused by his forced aloofness but accept whatever time he will give them. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>His mother gives him pamphlets for AA and NA groups in the area.  He accepts them without comment.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>When he comes home, his fish is in perfect health and a loaf of banana bread is waiting for him in the kitchen.  He realizes with a sinking heart that this is the beginning of the end.  If he lets her keep the spare key, she will take it as a sign that things are moving forward.  If he asks for it back, she will finally realize she’s been wasting her time with him.  He loses her either way.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He has a difficult time staying in his human form over the next several days and has to take time off work.  He tells Rey he’s come down with something and can’t see her, which turns out to be true when his temperature spikes.</p>
<p> </p>
<p><strong>Rey: </strong>Is there anything I can bring you?  Chicken soup?  Crackers?  Juice?</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p><strong>Ben: </strong>It’s fine, I can manage on my own.</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p><strong>Rey: </strong>Just because you can doesn’t mean you have to.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ben falls asleep on the couch and doesn’t see her next message.</p>
<p> </p>
<p><strong>Rey: </strong>I’m coming over.</p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>He has fever dreams.  He’s a bat, and his parents are taking him to the zoo- maybe to stay.  He’s a man, and Rey is laying a cold washcloth across his forehead.  He’s a bat, and she’s pacing around the room wringing her hands.  He’s a man but his arms are wings, and she’s crooning to him while she wraps him in a giant tortilla.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He wakes up with a jolt- sweaty, naked, and aching.  Something is digging into his back— a flattened shoe box and a hand towel.  There’s an odd assortment of items on his coffee table.  An uneaten bowl of chicken soup, a jar of yellow organic bee pollen, a plate of sliced fruit.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Light snoring draws his attention to Rey- curled up in the armchair next to his couch.  His sharp inhale rouses her.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Ben?” she asks groggily and rubs her eyes.  She jerks awake when she catches sight of him, then launches and wraps her arms around his shoulders.  Ben is acutely aware of his nakedness, and shifts awkwardly in an attempt to cover himself with the small towel.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Sorry about the shoe box,” she says when she pulls back.  “You were flopping around so much and I didn’t want you to get hurt.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Rey, why are you still here?” he asks incredulously. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>What he means is <em>why haven’t you gone running for the hills</em>? <em>Why did you stay with me?  Why aren’t you disgusted by me?</em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>She misunderstands him and looks hurt.  “You were really sick.  I just wanted to make sure you were okay.  And then you turned into a bat and I didn’t know if you were going to change back or not and I didn’t want you to die because I just left you here stuck inside!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He just sits there for a moment, waiting for his brain to catch up with reality.  “Sometimes I’m a bat,” he tells her dumbly.  “You’re not scared?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I mean, I was at first,” she admits.  “But you looked so pitiful with your cute little bat face and then you crawled into my lap and liked it when I rubbed your tummy.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You rubbed my tummy?”  He’s still in shock.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yes,” she admits with a blush.  “It’s furry and soft.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He takes a deep inhale and feels a hot prickle in his eyes.  Rey moves close again, sensing what he needs.  This time when she wraps her arms around his shoulders, he presses the side of his face to her stomach and circles his arms around her midsection.  She runs her fingers through his hair, and Ben feels a weight lift from his chest.  For the first time since the changes started, he doesn’t feel so alone.</p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>Rey accepts this new side of him much more quickly than he had accepted himself.  She stays over sometimes, so they can see more of each other despite their opposing schedules. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>The first time she caresses him through the fabric of his boxers he feels overwhelmed and shrinks into his bat form (<em>it had been awhile</em>).</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Rey laughs after the initial shock has worn off.  She holds him to her chest and strokes his back.  Presses soft kisses to his furry head until he shifts back, and then she kisses his <em>other</em> head.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The Batman jokes are <em>endless</em>.  “<em>To the Batmobile</em>!” she crows whenever they take his car.  Batman-themed gifts for every birthday and holiday—Batman boxers for him and briefs for her, Batman T-shirts, matching Batman and Batwoman costumes for Halloween.  His problem doesn’t feel like a curse anymore.  Now it’s a secret they share.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The first time she sees him in a suit is at Finn and Poe’s wedding.  Her mouth falls open and he can’t suppress a grin.  Once she gathers herself, her expression melts into a mischievous smolder.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I didn’t realize you knew the grooms, Mr. Wayne,” she purrs.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Please, call me Bruce,” he remarks casually.  “I’m just here to enjoy the company.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She leans up to whisper in his ear.  “You can keep me company in the bathroom in five minutes, <em>Bruce</em>.”</p>
<hr/>
<p>She doesn’t renew her lease when the term is up.  Most of her personal belongings are already at his apartment, anyway.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She buys a bird cage and covers it with a blanket so he can rest undisturbed during full moons- when he’s at his batty-est.   “It’s your Batcave,” she explains, giggling.  She prepares little plates for him of sliced fruit, nectar, and bee pollen.  He prefers to lick the nectar off her fingers.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He gets better at controlling his transformations.  He learns meditation and calming techniques, Rey right alongside him.  Eventually he’s able to shift individual parts of himself, including the sensitivity of his eyes, although it never quite goes away.  He can extend claw-tipped nails to cut through packing tape and uncork wine bottles.  He can lengthen his tongue, to Rey’s great delight.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I love you,” Rey sighs early one morning, as he’s kissing his way back up her body.  “And I promise this isn’t the orgasm talking.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He freezes.  “You do?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Ben,” she says firmly.  “I clean up your bat guano and I’m still here.  If that’s not love I don’t know what is.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He grins, and imagines it’s about as bright as the ones that drew him to her. “I love you, too.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I know,” she says with a smirk.  “Now get up here and put your Batmobile in my Batcave.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He groans in mock pain, but gladly does as she instructs.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks for reading!  Kudos are always appreciated, and Comments are the coffee in my cup!</p>
<p>Find me on Twitter as @dipole_m0ment</p></blockquote></div></div>
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